Stavanger Bay I have no home; I make awareness my dwelling.

Her answer wasn't enough.

He sucked in a breath as if he were to explain, but did not. Instead he stepped back and stood there, silent, watching, expecting something else from her; those eyes bore in to her with a dulled expression, as if the magic that enlivened the machinations of his body had suddenly departed. He did finally speak, and it was insistent: You are a servant to the Cairn—I am here for it, by order of Skellige.

It was all he would say as explanation, and then suddenly he was moving again—towards her, around her, glancing at the earth and following the tread of her steps across the sand. If she followed he would not be attentive. If she harassed him, Tetsubo knew how to dispose of such an obstacle. A part of him wished she would do something merely for the thrill; he yearned to spill blood this day, and she was ripe with it. But such a kill was hardly noble. To take life from a weakened creature may have satiated some part of his need, but it would not have been enough. Better, then, to save his energy.

The scent of Cairn flowed across the beachfront—he would follow it, and find his target without the aid of the woman.
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